Overlap
by IvoryCymbidium
Summary: A grad student in science and a pupil at the criminal bar found their lives overlapping a little more than they had expected. Iggychu (good tea pair). Disclaimer: sadly I don't own Hetalia. (otherwise Gerita would've been married already) Rated for language and adult scenes.
1. Anomalies

Wang Yao, or as he'd sign in UK, Yao Wang, really didn't seem to have any reason to complain.

He wasn't born in this rainy city called London; rather, he came all the way from China a few years ago. Nobody said it was easy to study abroad. Oceans away from all his beloved ones, it was quite a shift of everything to him in the beginning, of course. Yet he managed to adjust in a lot of ways. He became fluent in the English language and made pretty good friends. Although he always hated all English food with a burning passion, he himself was an amazing iron chef.

He was doing a very good job academically. Math was like his favorite toys that he could play with so effortlessly. And physical insights never failed to shine in those golden brown eyes of his. If anybody had had any doubts about his talents in the first place, he certainly proved them wrong throughout the years. People from his department called him _the boy genius from Far East_.

"What in the name of your bloody French motto do you mean boy?! I am a grown man aru!" he'd shout every time he heard that "disrespectful" nickname. Truth to be told, no matter how he claimed to be a grown man, people at most saw him as a 25-year-old trapped in a teenage boy's body. A cute and feminine teenage boy with a ponytail, to be precise. And surely his mysterious suffix "aru", together with his obsession with lovely chubby stuffed animals, contributed enormously to his cuteness and childishness.

He wasn't too social, yet still quite popular among the geeky and awkward lot of graduate students, mostly due to his cheerful personalities. In fact, he was so very irresistibly cheerful, that he hardly fitted in the desperate theme of the grad school lifestyle. People were constantly pulling their hair and cursing paper referees; he would not. Everybody went massively drunk on Fridays to get rid of loneliness and horniness; he would not, either. He was the one who smiled and lent his stuffed panda for others to cuddle. "Gungun is a good hugger aru. You'll feel better if you relax and cuddle with it."

However, only the almighty Lord and Yao himself knew, he wasn't quite the person who everybody else thought he was. It was true that he smiled, giggled and laughed every single day. But it didn't mean he was happy. He couldn't explain why he kept pretending to be happy. There wasn't any point of doing so, really; as his colleagues said, grad school sucked and everybody was driven insane anyway. But somehow, this was the only way he learnt to live his life.

On the inside, he was seriously depressed, and he knew very well he'd suffered from depression for a decade. He wouldn't even bother to count how many times he tried to commit suicides. People could only see how he coded on his computer while humming in a soft and comforting voice. Nobody ever got to know he would soon leave the program to run, go into hiding somewhere and try to take his own life. Eventually the suicidal thoughts would pass. He never worried about that. After all, he was too caring a son and too responsible a big brother to leave his family in tears.

He wasn't going to do anything about depression though. No counseling, no anti-depression medication, no, just no, he' d have none of these things. How stubborn! He sometimes sarcastically commented on himself. But he just couldn't believe it would be of any help to go to a doctor for this. He was totally aware of the very root of his sufferings and quite positive that no doctor on this planet could cure that.

He was gay.

He was about to hit his fifteenth birthday when he found out this devastating and shameful fact about himself. Since then, he couldn't remember a single time he smiled genuinely. It was at the international physics Olympics of high school students that he met a certain tall Russian boy with the sweetest voice ever. They had two intense weeks together, or rather, competing with each other. In the end, he won the golden medal, yet lost his heart to someone who hadn't had the slightest clue about the crush.

Years passed and Yao never had any relationship. Not that he was still pathetically thinking of his high school crush. He just concluded that such a sinful person as he was simply didn't deserve love. He pretended to be interested in girls. But he wouldn't start relationships with them, since he couldn't give his heart. He did meet guys who liked him. But in his mind, to have a boyfriend or anything of that sort would only make him sink lower. He probably couldn't change himself, yet he wished he could keep this sin to himself for his entire life. That way, at least his family wouldn't be affected. And also, selfishly, he didn't want to find out how disappointed his parents, bothers and sister would be if they knew about his true color. Even the one who didn't believe he deserved unconditional love would still try his best to prolong the love he received. How inconsistent!

It was just another time that Yao couldn't hold his joyful outside and had to excuse himself from his friends. He already took three shots of whisky and the pink patches on his cheeks gave him the perfect reason-as an Asian, he didn't have as much alcohol dehydrogenases as his Caucasian fellows did.

"Kesesese, Jao, you're no fun!" Gilbert roared, but let go of his apparently drunk friend. Yao waved good night to everybody and left the bar without protesting against the self-claimed Prussian descendant butchering his name again.

He wandered on those pebble pavements, not knowing where he was heading. The city of London was like a giant maze after the dark curtain laid upon it. He silently walked past those blocks that he gradually got familiar with in the past seven years. Yet they looked so foreign to him at the moment. Well, no, he was the foreign one. No matter how many years he'd spent in this country, it still wasn't his home, and never would be. But where was his home? Suddenly he felt so lonely and helpless. Not that it was a new thing to him though.

Before he knew, he was already sitting on the roof of some random building, a knife placed on his frail wrist. The sharp blade shone in the silver moonlight, and he could almost see the reflection of a grin. Usually he was sure he wouldn't actually cut himself. But tonight it seemed a bit different. He wasn't sad or anxious or anything. Instead, he was pretty calm. Unlike his previous suicidal situation, he didn't need to feel death in order to confirm he was still alive and to be reminded that his family was still waiting for him. This time, he was simply tired and wanted it over.

Right, a quick and clean cut, and everything would be over. Nobody knew he was here and certainly not many would visit the roof at midnight. He would go rested in peace already before anyone could possibly come to his rescue. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?

A firm hand suddenly grabbed his wrist and took the knife away before he could protest. "Hey, I can't let a lady kill herself in front of me."

Yao looked up and grinned even wider. In front of him stood a blonde young man in black leather pants. The green sapphires on his earrings sparkled brightly, matching his emerald eyes. "Says the juvenile punk high on angel dust."

Said punk raised an eyebrow and pulled himself closer, purring on Yao's neck, "well, let's find out who's the vulnerable juvenile here, shall we?" He then proceeded to kiss the Asian's pale skin.

Yao, startled by the sudden act, pushed the Brit away and stood up. "You do realize I'm a man, don't you, bastard?"

The emerald-eyed Brit sneered, "I do realize you are quite delicious."

Three shots of whisky probably couldn't knock down Yao. But they did have enough effect on him that he let himself dragged by the Brit into a hotel room. For the first time in his life, he did something he'd secretly craved for the past twenty-five years-being rebellious. He wanted to end his own existence anyway. If this night were the bonus time he didn't even ask for, like hell would he care what price he'd have to pay when the sun rose again?

Yao had very little knowledge and zero experience of foreplay. Yet he wouldn't deny he enjoyed it. Kissing and groping, being kissed and groped, it all felt far too good, even with some complete stranger. He liked the subtle perfume the Brit wore, and the way he licked his neck and ears.

The taller man seemed amazed at how inexperience his partner was. "Are you virgin?" he teased.

"Just fucking do your thing!" the brunette grunted and sank his teeth near the Brit's collarbone. The blonde hesitated no more and forced himself in, making the smaller man groan very loud. It was curious how much the sound of the moaning turned on the other, who in return slammed himself in the fragile Asian body awfully hard.

Having spent too many years mourning over his guilty existence, not until this moment did Yao have a single bite of the evil fruit growing in Satan's garden. And damn was it addictive!

_To thine own self be true_, at least on the last day of his life.

A/N: Apologies if I got London completely wrong! I've never been there. ;P Comments, remarks and complaints are all the most welcomed!


	2. Scattering

Arthur woke up in the middle of a dream in which his younger self had been riding a unicorn, possibly heading "somewhere over the rainbow". The digital clock on the nightstand said 5:57am. In a split of second, he figured out the current situation he was in. To summarize, first, he slept with someone he picked up from streets; frankly this wasn't too new to him. Second, by the standards of a certain Elizabeta Hedervary, he absolutely hadn't done the homework on his on-going case. And last but not the least, he was supposed to join his mentor for said case in the courtroom at 9 o'clock sharp.

The black-haired man was still sound asleep. Arthur leaned against the headboard and looked down at the slim Asian. This was a man far too delicate to be real. Arthur remembered the Asian's suicidal attempt from last night. Why on earth would an angel like this want to disappear from this world? The Brit pondered and sighed. He always knew he probably had a little kinky yellow fever, which was part of the reason he followed this guy when he climbed up to the roof. And yes, he knew he was a guy from the very beginning. The amber-eyed man looked so hurt and broken when he was about to cut himself; but shortly after he got totally turned on and participated enthusiastically in their make-out session. Even the more experienced of the two was a bit impressed by the sudden turn of attitude; of course, he couldn't complain about that. All in all, they did have wonderful sex; so wonderful that Arthur almost wished to upgrade their relationship to something more than merely a one-night stand.

The blonde switched off his cellphone in the last second before his 6am morning alarm went off. Swiftly removing himself from under the pale-skinned arm that clung to his waist subconsciously, Arthur quietly dashed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He might have fantasized another night with the angel-faced brunette in the past three minutes. But he knew far too well that he'd better reserve such leisure thoughts for later of the day.

As a new pupil at the criminal bar, the Brit decided to skip breakfast when he recalled the remark from the head of the chambers on his mentor. "You will opt to be sent to Mercury than face the wrath of Miss Hedervary." Not that he hated her for being incredibly strict though. Instead, that was probably what he liked the most about her. Unlike everyone else, Miss Hedervary simply wouldn't give a damn because he was the son of Judge Kirkland.

Arthur frowned at the thought of his father as he brushed his teeth. Ever since he started law school, he had desperately been in the shadow of his famous father. It was bad enough that half of his professors were family friends of the Kirklands. And now four barristers in the chambers might ask his dad to be a referee for their QC applications. He could swear on all that was British that he had worked much harder than most of his peers to be where he stood now, and that his father really didn't offer much help other than a few advices from experiences. But nobody would believe him. He knew exactly what those smirks on his colleagues' faces meant. Boy he only wanted someone who saw him as Arthur, not a Kirkland!

He was going through the brief he read last night in his mind during the shower. No doubt the emerald-eyed Brit was smart and all, even blessed with a bit of what people called eidetic memory, which was certainly quite handy for a future lawyer. Making mental notes here and there, thinking of the possible grounds to build their reasoning on, and murmuring the speech he as the junior lawyer would have to give in an unlikely event, Arthur rubbed the towel on his head hastily. Sometimes he really despised himself for what he was doing.

It was a rape accusation this time and they were prosecuting. The accused was a notorious wanker and the victim was a waitress working at the coffee shop near the man's workplace. Troubles were, apart from his terrible reputation, the defendant had been clever enough not to be found guilty a single time. And the young and vulnerable waitress was completely traumatized and didn't report until her family found out five days after. At the end of the day, the evidences provided by the police were not strong enough to guarantee the penalty. Arthur wanted to send that bloody jerk to prison as badly as the CPS. Yet his inner barrister failed to see how procedural justice could be realized at the same time. In other words, their job was mainly to fit the defendant in and get the jury to buy their story. Miss Hedervary specialized in this field. She might be fair with her pupils; but it didn't necessarily mean she'd be fair at court. After all, eloquence and passion alone would get her nowhere near that gorgeous silk gown. And who said justice was well defined in the first place? She'd play dirty if she needed to, and Arthur would play along.

He was fine with such rules of the game except when he wasn't. From time to time, he felt sick of himself impersonating the defender of justice, while truth was he was only taking advantage of all he had learnt and trying to win the cases that would flatter his resume. And when he was fed up and being torn by himself, he would put on his band outfit that had seen better days, join his good old friends at whatever pub they picked, and throw a totally thrilling concert to the drunken. And that was how he had spent the early night before he caught a glimpse of a surprisingly alluring Asian wandering about the dark corners of London.

The Brit stepped out from the bathroom, with a few drops of water still dripping from his spikey blonde hair. The Asian was still panting slightly in his dreams when Arthur dug into his backpack. Thank goodness he was smart enough to pack some proper clothes, a gown and a wig before he reunited with his band friends last night. No one in the chambers needed to see his fashionable punk outfit.

Arthur didn't know the other person in the room woke up as he dressed himself. When he turned around and reached for his watch on the nightstand, he couldn't help but held his breath for a good thirty seconds.

That was the saddest and the most beautiful face his emerald eyes had ever met. Even sadder than last night when he was attempting to suicide. Silky dark hair covering the pillow, the Asian kept still. His amber eyes were watery and shining; yet through them the Brit saw nothing. He was smiling, pink lips forming an elegant curve; and that made Arthur's heart sink hopelessly in an unknown sea of unknown grief.

As practical and rational as a lawyer ought to be, Arthur simply couldn't resist the urge to question the Asian's background and reach out a hand to drag him out of whatever saddened him. Yet who was he to interfere with this man's life? They were strangers, after all.

The blonde suddenly wanted to fuck the brunette so hard, over and over again; and that way maybe he could revive the upset beauty and turn him into the passionate one he had been last night. But he couldn't, obviously. He could only kneeled by the bedside and kissed him gently. The Asian's lips were cold and soft in the refreshing morning breeze, just like the skin of a juicy plum with a drop of dew. Arthur threw the blanket to the ground and started to place soothing kisses everywhere on the other's naked body, even though the other paid no attention.

Another kiss on those delicious lips, Arthur knew he must leave. Like an old married couple bidding their morning goodbyes, the Brit murmured, "You can stay here in the morning if you want. Do you want breakfast? I can call for room service. Don't worry about money. I'll take care of that when I check out." If there was anything Arthur liked about being the son of a busy judge and living a stressful life, it would be having enough bills in his wallet that he could casually spend on attractive strangers.

The dark-haired showed no interest in such an offer. He only gave out a sigh and asked slowly, "Who are you?"

"Arthur, Arthur Kirkland." replied the blonde. It was quite rare for him to give his real name in such situations. Usually he'd just use whatever name he made up that instant. "Pleased to meet you. May I have the honor to be told your name?" If there was someone worthy of all the gentlemanliness he had to offer, it would be this fragile oriental beauty in front of him.

Arthur waited for a bit while the other only sighed again. The Briton more or less foresaw this reaction and wasn't really expecting an answer. He fished out a notebook from his backpack, quickly scribbled down his name and phone number and put the piece of paper on the nightstand. "I- I really have to run. Call me if you need anything, any time." Placing one last kiss on the smaller man's right hand, Arthur stood up and turned his heels to the door.

"Wang Yao," mumbled the Asian, when Arthur turned the knob. The voice was low and soft, like fairies' whispers. Yet Arthur caught it.

"How beautiful." The blond remarked, before he finally got out of the room. He didn't know what it meant; but it would only make sense for such a person to have a matching name. He couldn't pronounce it as the Asian did. With the intonations the Brit couldn't manage, it was more like singing than speaking. Even though those were the only two words the golden-eyed man said in his own language, even though Arthur wasn't sure whether that was Chinese or Korean, he fell in love with that mysterious oriental language immediately.

Nervously sitting in a café near the court, Arthur bit his lips and took a last sip into his earl grey. Then he closed his bulky folders and set out for the courtroom. Little did he know how he changed Yao's life completely in this very morning.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for commenting, fav-ing and following! Lots of love! I'm sorry if Arthur is a bit OOC. (I seem to make him too soft and gentle... but somehow I'd always picture Arthur being sweet when he truly falls for someone.) My knowledge of the British legal system completely comes from Silk. *Courtesy to Martha Costello!* So another apology if there's something wrong.

Comment please!


	3. Tunneling

Arthur took off his wig and ran his pale fingers through his short blonde hair, sighing quietly on the inside. Golden beams of sunlight were leaked through the vacuities between thick, dark clouds, showing the clear blue up high. Outside the courthouse, pedestrians hurriedly walked by while birds sang and flew to the sky. Everybody was minding their own business, nothing spectacular happening. It was merely yet another normal afternoon the city of London witnessed in her history of two millenniums.

The Brit just made his first impression at a jury trial, cross-examining the defendant. This was an opportunity rarely given to a pupil in his first six and he certainly grasped it and made the most of it. Brought up in a household where debating was the teatime entertainment, Arthur surely knew how he expertised at it. The cross-examination was his show time, amazing his supervisor and other chambers members in the courtroom.

Slamming the documents into his leather briefcase, the pupil felt nothing remotely resembling satisfaction or delight. He might have proved that he'd make a good barrister; but he wasn't being a decent man. All he did was abuse that emotionally disturbed young man, knowing a human soaked so deeply in regret and grief could not fight back effectively. He remembered the defendant's bewailing face. That was a man who saw himself guilty and deserving punishment; yet he was accused for more than he had done wrong. Somehow, that shivering figure in the defendant box reminded Arthur of a certain Asian.

It had been nearly two weeks since the memorable night; Arthur had spent roughly forty hours in totally at court since then; and Yao never called. The Brit rushed back to the hotel after work that afternoon, but the Asian was already nowhere to be found. Thinking back, it wasn't hard for Arthur to visualize that angelic face with great details. He remembered full well those lamenting eyes and this image kept him worrying. What happened to Yao afterwards? Was he still depressed? Would he attempt to cut his beautiful body again? Arthur found himself constantly check his phone, only to be disappointed for yet another time. The amber-eyed was like a legendary thorn bird that sang once in a lifetime and disappeared completely. And Arthur wasn't sure if it was a bless or a curse that he heard the song not to be forgotten.

Somewhere else in the same city, Yao was now nursing a cup of green tea, pondering how he should write his on-going paper.

The Asian could hardly explain how he survived the past two weeks. The night with the blonde Briton lifted the seal of a pathway to a secret garden where evil flowers bloomed and wicked birds chanted. He had never been more shameful of himself. However, no matter how hard he fought against it, he couldn't deny one fact. In those glowing emerald eyes, he saw himself complete. That was the very heavenly feeling he'd craved in desperation for ages, like a rain pouring on the desert. His usual responsible self couldn't live with that shame any longer; but deep on the inside, there was an enchanting voice begging for more. He hated himself for being a greedy coward who couldn't help but listen to that siren's song.

Even more cowardly, he kept himself busy with work, and thus sheltered from everything. There was a reason he had chosen to study fundamental physics. Surely he liked it and was indeed very good at it. But the one true motivation that he'd never speak out loud was he was seeking refuge in the world of symbols and numbers. If anything that wouldn't ever judge him, it must be the principles of the universe that were ultimately fair and indifferent to everyone. He could act gleeful and naïve; but he never felt any security in the crowd of his own kind. Only when immersed in those sophisticated, yet stunningly beautiful formulae, could he be freed from angst and dread.

So he was being a workaholic for two weeks, besides drinking himself to pass out at night. Still, the fantasy of a man named Arthur Kirkland haunted him in all of his dreams, drunk or sober. The string of numbers that could connect him to the blonde had been annoyingly jumping into his mind every five minutes. And he had been struggling to suppress the urge of dialing those numbers.

His mind was totally a mess now, conflicted and tangled. Simultaneously, he loathed and relished what he believed to be unforgivable. As much as he missed the celestial experience, he shuddered to have a taste of it once more. Although he couldn't even tell what he feared for exactly. For sin or for happiness, or maybe, simply for hopes he had purposely buried ages ago.

Before Yao could repair his fucked up brain and reinstall some sense in it, Moirai showed their playful and mischievous nature.

London has a population of over eight millions. What are the odds that a random man you bumped into in the street was a childhood friend of your foreign colleague's? Yao couldn't believe what he saw in Francis' place-the very Arthur Kirkland he'd dreamt of, but dreaded to meet again.

Arthur was astounded as well. Francis called him earlier this week, inviting him to a wine-tasting party in the luxurious mansion owned by the French family on the outskirt of London. The Kirklands and the Bonnefoys had known each other for generations, even though they were more like rivals than friends most of the time. Francis' parents used to stay in London for business reasons for a few years; and thus Arthur and Francis had sort of spent their adolescent years together, constantly fighting each other and all. Arthur never really put up with the way the French went about things; and he'd just snort at the whole wine-tasting idea, so extravagant and so obnoxiously French! But for his timid cousin Matthew, Arthur wouldn't have agreed to come. After all, this was also Francis and Matthew's anniversary party. But as it turned out, this was the best party he'd ever been to.

The Asian and the Briton were now nervously sitting at the table on the patio, neither knowing what to say. With all the alcohol, music and a very loud Gilbert, it was hard for other party-goers to notice the two missing. Yao seemed quite determined at avoiding eye contact, while Arthur the lawyer suddenly lost his patented eloquence. Both kept silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Yao sighed quietly. He sneaked over here to keep a reasonable distance from the Brit, so that his heartbeats wouldn't be as irregular. Said Brit, talking with others then, wasn't supposed to notice and follow him! He knew he should simply walk away. Now his heart, against all his interests, just wanted this emerald-eyed Brit so badly! Arthur, on the other hand, was surprised to see how joyful Yao appeared at the party. Somehow, the more delighted Yao seemingly was, the more upset he looked in Arthur's eyes. He only spent about 7 hours with the Asian, not to mention a significant chunk of it was making love. Yet, he knew Yao was harboring all his feelings and possibly had been doing so for a really long time. He could sense how stressed and tired Yao got from pretending to be someone else in all these years.

The night breeze gently lifted a strand of black hair that wasn't pulled back in the ponytail. Yao didn't drink much, but his face was already slightly pink. When he felt the Brit laid eyes on him, the pink patches darkened.

"I-it's a nice party, isn't it?" mumbled Arthur, hoping to break the embarrassing silence.

Yao simply nodded. "So, you're Francis' friend?"

"We are only acquaintances," exclaimed Arthur, "Matthew is my cousin, and he invited me." It wasn't a lie. Certainly Yao needed not to know how Francis used to date Arthur in high school in order to make Matthew jealous, at least not now. And nobody ever needed to know how Arthur, having no clue about the Frenchman's plan back then, once fell for that perverted frog.

"How have you been? Are you feeling better now? I don't mean to be rude, but you seemed quite… unhappy the other day. I was worried."

"I, well, I've been doing well." replied the Asian hesitantly, "just a lot of work, you know. Nothing to write home about."

"What do you do? Are you also a grad student, since you're Francis' colleague?"

"Eh, yes. We actually have the same supervisor."

"So you're also studying theoretical physics? Care to explain what that is? I'm not quite a science person. Well, I know the basics. Since I'm a lawyer, I need some knowledge in science for the cases. But that's pretty much. Is it like what Stephen Hawking does?"

Yao's golden eyes lit up a bit. Unconsciously his tender lips formed a small smile. "Well, we do get asked that a lot. But physics has a lot of diverging branches. Some people do that sort of research. Some don't. It all depends. My own research isn't that similar to his." He didn't notice, as the conversation flew, his body gradually relaxed, as well as his heart. "I guess you can say, in general physics studies the behavior and evolution of the world. The ultimate goal would be to find the underlying principles that govern the universe. But in reality, most of what we do is play with equations and have fun. They give us money to do useless computations. That'll do for me."

Arthur chuckled a bit at the last remark. "That sounds like a fun life indeed. If I had known you earlier, probably I'd have made better choice for life."

"What is life at the bar like then?"

"Well, intense, stressful. We play with words instead of equations. They pay us an awful lot of money for saying twisted or malicious things for them."

"You like it that way?" The Asian winked.

"I didn't give it too much thought when I decided my major. My grandpa and dad are both judges; my mum is a solicitor. There's always been a lot of expectation from my family. I didn't want to let them down and law school was OK. Although I don't quite like the dark side of it, I'm afraid it's too late now. There aren't too many options left. Sometimes I wish I had more choices. But what is done is done."

Yao suddenly dropped silent again, looking away. Too much expectation from family, feeling obliged to please others, not being given a chance to choose, all sounded awfully similar to him. These words echoed back in his mind, reminding him how he wished to be free and how he wrestled against that wish.

"Did I say anything that upsets you?" asked Arthur, worried.

"No! Of course not," said the Asian hastily, "You're quite a worry wart aru." He giggled a bit, trying to sound light-hearted.

Arthur shook his head and reached out a hand to hold the Asian's. The latter shivered a bit but didn't take his hand back. Rubbing his thumb on the soft skin, Arthur spoke slowly, "You don't have to put up all that mask. You can be straight with me. Just, be yourself. It's OK, really."

There was a pause. They heard the wind brushing the leaves and Antonio singing a Spanish song. Arthur's heart was skipping beats. And in the end, Yao squeezed Arthur's hand. Nothing needed to be said.

* * *

_A/N: _

_Thank you all for reading, commenting and following!_

_Hope you enjoy the update. My PM box is always open. Just drop me a line if you want to say anything about the story (or anything else)._

_My tumblr: Ivory-Cymbidium_

_Lots of love!_


	4. Duality Side A

"Mr. Swansea, do you recognize the person in the photo labeled as M21?" Arthur began to examine the last witness of his part, slightly shifting on his feet. The pupil just started his second six, which meant he would gain a lot more actual experience than before. This was another rape trial Miss Hedervary was prosecuting, a particularly tough one.

The witness was a black-haired college student, looking a bit nervous in the courtroom. He nodded sadly as he looked at the photo, and replied, "Yes, that's my friend Luca, Luca Clayworth."

"Do you recognize the outfit?" questioned Arthur in a calm, but clear voice.

"One of the costumes we designed for our performance," answered the witness.

"And that was what Mr. Clayworth worn on Friday, January 27th, 2012, for your performance?" receiving a confirming nod from the witness, Arthur continued, "can you tell us something about the performance? What kind of performance was that?"

"Improvisational theatre, we didn't have any scripts written beforehand, only a general setup instead. The idea was to take requests from the audience and carry out the scene on the spot. We'd draw straws to decide who'd perform in each scene if not everybody was needed. It was our first time, at the pub Secret Forest. We chose romance to be the theme, and we took any idea as long as the plot could be realized in less than 20 minutes."

"So it was all randomly decided who casted whom after you received the request." Arthur remarked, "Did Mr. Clayworth wear that outfit the whole night?"

"No, only for the last scene. Usually people don't care too much about the costume and the stage design for improvisational theatre. But we did have several costumes handy and changed when necessary."

"What was the story then?"

"It was about a rent boy who fell in love with a client and ran away from the pimp, but eventually was cheated and left in desperation."

Arthur nodded as his fingers flipped the pages of the chunky documents. Taking a deep breath quietly, he took a glimpse at the jury and asked, "Would you say this outfit in the photo was somewhat suggestive?"

"In a way, yes," confirmed the witness, "But it was meant to be. It was for the show, after all."

"And what did you do after the performance?"

"We had a discussion session with the audience, talking about theatre skills and such. It went quite late and we just all headed home afterwards."

"Was Mr. Clayworth still wearing that outfit when you left the pub?"

"No, we changed before the discussion session."

"Do you know the man in the defendant box, Mr. Anderson?"

"Not personally. I know he is one of the sponsors of our college. I only saw him at the ceremony awarding students the college entrance scholarship."

"Was Mr. Clayworth at said ceremony as well?"

"Yes, he was one of those who won the awards. He went up to receive it, and shook hands with Mr. Anderson, and gave a small speech there."

"Was that the only interaction between Mr. Anderson and Mr. Clayworth that you can think of?"

"I don't think so. Mr. Anderson also participates in many other ceremonies of our college. And Luca is a talented lad. He gets all sorts of awards and scholarships. He often attends those ceremonies."

"Do you know how their interaction was like?"

The witness shook his head, slightly frowning, "Not much. Only once Luca mentioned after a cocktail reception with the school sponsors, that Mr. Anderson said he liked one of our plays that we wrote and performed at the college theatre, and he might even support us to do a public tour season. But Luca didn't take it seriously. He thought Mr. Anderson was just joking."

"Do you recall that Mr. Clayworth ever expressed the wish to get sponsorship for his shows?"

"No, Luca is really humble in that regard. He sees his skills unpolished and isn't all that eager to do things in public yet. He is much more comfortable at the school theatre. Even at that performance, the audience was mainly students from art schools and friends. It wasn't even quite public."

"Thank you, Mr. Swansea. I have no further questions." Arthur breathed and sat down. Miss Hedervary quickly turned to him and nodded, with a small triumphant grin on her face. Her pupil had done really well examining four witnesses they called. Now it was time for her to fight and ensure their success.

Another pupil sitting besides Arthur made a face and remarked in a very low voice, "I feel so honored that the golden boy of Elizebeta Hedervary is sitting next to me. Oh sorry, must be the golden boy of the whole chambers now."

Arthur had to bite his lower lip in order to fight the urge to throw quite some insults back to his colleague in the courtroom. True it was quite unusual for a pupil to be given so much freedom and responsibility in a jury trial. But it was simply Elizebeta's strategy!

Rape cases were in general hard, since it was difficult to judge how consent the victim actually was, especially, when the victim was a student from a working class family while the defendant was a successful business man with flawless records. This one, in particular, had more complexities. It was homosexual. Elizebeta Hedervary, one of the best barristers in London, had done only one thing that wasn't on the list of walking-to-silk since she found tenancy at the chambers. That was, being one of the outspoken LGBT right activists in London. There was a certain down side attached to this when it came to cases like this. Chances were, the jury wouldn't really like a worked up woman stating a wealthy good-looking man in the Armani suit was sexually abusing a college student. Instead, a more neutral figure might do a much better job. And Arthur seemed perfect. He was handsome and had a charming voice. Although he was gay, nobody knew and it was all good. He didn't get worked up very much; rather, he appeared quite calm and unbiased, as if he was merely helping the witnesses get their stories out. This way, the jury might be happier to believe the student really didn't bribe the businessman with his body and his suggestive garment.

Unfortunately, not everybody saw things that way. Arthur knew many at the chambers would be talking behind his back about how even Miss Hedervary was no longer her badass self and gave Arthur such unfair advantages, when they learnt about the trial.

Before long Elizebeta finished her cross-examination and the court was adjourned. Arthur stole a glimpse of the judge who returned him a small smile. This judge is, although unsurprisingly, yet another old friend of his dad's. Well, at least his old man would hear something nice about him, Arthur thought to himself. The green-eyed Englishman had a peculiar family. His parents used to be away a lot when his brothers and himself were little kids. Probably feeling neglected was one of the many reasons his elder brothers all declared their independence in a way that their parents wouldn't like to commemorate every day. Arthur, the youngest, became practically the only one left to the Kirkland couple when Father the Judge and Mother the Lawyer finally found time to attend to their sons. Being the center of focus since then, Arthur had struggled to meet the very high expectations. It was kind of a burden; but he still wanted them proud.

Arthur drove to his parents' place right after he changed his gown. It was Friday and he made some rules for him in order to keep sane, no working nor being bothered by others on Friday nights. He wished he could visit Yao's apartment as he had done in the past six weeks, where the amber-eyed would cook some really authentic and tasty Chinese dishes, and they would enjoy the time together. This week, however, Yao was off on the European continent for a conference. Anyway, Arthur was planning on dropping by his parents'. He regularly went over to their brown brick house for dinner or something, because this made them happy. It was bizarre how his parents had become a little clingy as they aged. Time really changed everybody.

It had been about two months and one week since they met at Francis' party. And the two had upgraded from one-night-stand strangers to, well, as Yao so often said, something ill defined. Yao would deny that they were in a relationship. But he'd cuddle with Arthur and only protest to the slightest degree when Arthur kissed him. The Englishman could sense the Chinese cared for him from all sorts of trivialities in life. For instance, Yao wouldn't usually say anything sweet, unlike the French pervert. Yet he'd whisper the soothing words into Arthur's ear in his beautiful voice, when the Brit got frustrated and upset. When he did so, he'd try to look reluctant at first, but gradually started to flush and turn his "motherly" side out. That was so cute and Arthur always chuckled lightheartedly at it. However, they hadn't had sex since then. It seemed weird for a relationship that started out like that to go on a Platonic track. But Arthur knew something was holding his partner back and he figured the best was to wait until the Chinese would at least reveal this something.

Thinking of Yao, Arthur couldn't help a smile. The amber-eyed Chinese really seemed to be coming from an alternative universe where everything was opposite to their counterparts in Arthur's world. Academia was a relatively simple and protected structure while criminal bar was dirty. The Chinese played with math while the Brit dealt with humans. The former was idealistic in a lot of ways while the latter was practical most of the time. Indeed, they were so extremely differently; however, they also shared a lot. They could easily spend hours debating on anything and everything and they both enjoyed that. Arthur was impressed how much the Chinese knew about western cultures and Yao liked how the Brit appreciated Asian cultures. It was with Yao that Arthur had the deepest philosophical conversations, which washed away the dust from life. Those nights when they sat together with teacups in their hands were almost like short idyllic vacations and he wouldn't mind doing so all his life.

Well, not true. He did mind. Surely he wanted even more. It was greedy but that was probably what humans were about. His heart was stolen and he wanted the thief's in return. And he wanted the thief to admit the loss openly and honestly.

Arthur was about to make plans for getting someone's heart, as he parked in the driveway of his parents' house. He picked up his phone before he opened the door. It was about time when Yao usually texted him after the last talk of the day. But there wasn't anything from Yao. Thick eyebrows stitched as the Brit saw a voice message from Francis.

The annoying French accent made those emerald eyes shiver, "Arthur, Yao had a fainting spell. We don't know what that is yet. He is in the emergency."

_Hi there! Sorry about the wait! The author was hiding in a forest somewhere in Europe for a week and internet wasn't available there. It was a pretty nice trip, although I personally wouldn't recommend this lets-cross-the-freaking-atlantic-twice-in-a-week schedule. _

_A thousand and one thanks for reviewing and following again!_

_Hopefully the updates won't come as rarely. But I'm kinda busy working these days..._


	5. Duality Side B

Yao had a really long dream. It wasn't a bad dream though. Rather, it might very well be the best dream he could ever dream.

_In the dream, everything was soothingly peaceful, with the Milky Way sparkling in the clear dark sky. Winter breezes were chilly and quiet, while hot food was delicious and comforting. He sat with a certain Briton in the sofa, eating dinner as his laptop played a beautifully depressing song. They officially got to know each other not so long ago; yet Yao felt as if he'd known Arthur his whole life. He was still in his rented apartment in a country that would never be his; but now, he'd happily call this very place home._

_The pork soup, having been simmered for hours, had whitened and thickened. Out of his childish habit, Yao licked the remaining soup on his upper lips as he put down the bowl and in a second he felt Arthur's tongue meeting his. The Brit pressed his soft lips harder, forcing the Chinese to open up his mouth wide. Soon after, they found themselves kissing madly while their hands impatiently unbuttoning each other's clothes._

_"These bloody buttons!" Arthur cursed, staring at the delicate Chinese costume. _

_Yao giggled triumphantly as he threw Arthur's belt to the floor. "Only half way there?" he teased._

_Arthur raised an eyebrow and, without a second of hesitant, torn apart the fine fabric violently. "Don't worry, love. We'll get you something easier to remove next time."_

If only time had ceased then and there! But as much of a physicist as one can be, Yao knew better than expect himself to actually experience any singularity of the spacetime manifold. He woke up to the Skype icon bouncing angrily on the iPad screen. Indeed, here came the reality check.

"Morning, Mum." Yao greeted, yawning, "It's only 6 here."

"I know. But I see you online, thought you were awake. Anyway, since you got up already, I want to show you some photos."

"I forgot to quit it last night." Surely he wouldn't tell he had been talking to Arthur at midnight. "Photos, what photos?" asked Yao, completely clueless.

"Photos of the girl who may be a good match for you, of course. What else would I want to show you so early in the morning."

Yao sighed, feeling miserable on the inside. He was turning twenty-six now, a proper age to approach marriage. Unsurprisingly, his parents, very much like many other parents, were pushing him to get a girlfriend. Over the years, he had made all sorts of excuses, from being too packed with work to knowing no interesting girl. But things got worse. He didn't know why, but clearly his parents had grown overly anxious about his relationship status lately. It had been the only topic of all the Skype calls he had with them over the past seven months, as if that was the only meaningful thing in life. And Yao had got really tired of such conversations. He felt super guilty for being unable to realize their dream; but he was also extremely upset about how the way his parents put it. He certainly understood in the traditional Chinese culture the eldest son was always most expected to have an heir who could carry on the bloodline and support the family. But he still hoped that things might have changed in the modern age and that his parents might see him a bit more than genetic materials. He wondered whether he could marry someone and have a child so that his parents would eventually be happy. However, since that moment when Arthur's emerald eyes gazed him passionately, for strange unknown reason, Yao couldn't bear that thought any more. Did he rationally see a future with Arthur? Thought not. He wasn't even able to be honest with himself, not to mention that he wasn't sure how serious Arthur was. But here was the thing about hope. It was like a seed planted in one's heart. Let it be, and it grew unnoticeably. And suddenly you realized something was about to bloom and it was so beautiful that you wouldn't have the heart to cut it down.

"Mum, you can't possibly expect me to go on a blind date with this girl? I told you already, I can't just ask for a two week vacation and spend a thousand pounds on the flight to see a girl."

"Of course I do! You don't have to meet her now. But when you do come home for vacation, you can take her out or something. That'd be nice;" said Yao's mother excitedly, "She's getting her master's degree; then you are on the same intellectual level. And my friend knows her family very well. They are nice people apparently, and also well off-"

"Mum, whoever the girl is," interrupted his younger sister Meimei, "big brother won't marry her. Big brother is too uke-ish to be straight. He needs a boyfriend instead!" The long-haired girl teased in a jolly and sweet voice.

"How can you say such dirty things about your brother! Go finish your lunch. You're going to be late for your piano lesson! And I don't want to see those strange manga any more in your room." his mother roared. The teenage girl made a mum-you-are-no-fun face, but obeyed. She blinked at her older brother in the screen and walked away.

"Mum…" Yao's voice saddened, "I don't think I want to blind date her, or any other girl at all. No, it's not about this girl. I-I just don't want to get married."

"Don't be silly! What do you mean you don't want to get married? Everybody does. You just haven't found the right one. That's why I'm helping you out!"

"No, Mum, it's not that simple. Some people… some may take a different path in life… I'm different from most of others in that regard…" The sentence slipped between his lips before he realized what he was saying. Jesus Christ! What the bloody hell had he done?!

Too late to take that back. His mother, shocked and dismayed, asked in a trembling tone, "What is that supposed to mean? You know how much your dad and I want a grandchild-you can't be saying that you're like… those?"

Yao didn't know how to reply. His heart ached when he saw his mother's face. True, he could still try to cover up by making more excuses. But that was nothing but cheating. A good will wouldn't make a lie truth. In all these years, he'd told too many lies, and he'd got sick of lying. But he couldn't just spill out the truth either. He didn't know how to say those unspeakable things to his mother in such a situation.

"Mum, no, I don't have time now." Yao dipped his head really low, avoiding eye contact. "Gotta go have a shower and run for the talk. I'll talk to you later." He quickly hung up and fled to the bathroom. He knew that was total cowardice. But what else could he do? Coming out was not even a scenario he had considered in his headspace. Damn! How did this even happen?

The whole day Yao struggled to pay attention to the talks, no matter how interesting they were. He couldn't stop for a second thinking about his mum's reaction. Had she figured already? She must be mad. He wanted to call home to make sure she was OK after the shock; but he hadn't gathered the courage. He closed his eyes and saw his mum's face. He had never seen her as disappointed as that. He failed as a son.

His heart hurt badly, emotionally and physically. Even breathing was becoming such a challenge for him now. He opened his mouth to get more oxygen in; but it didn't help much. Francis was sitting besides him and asked if he was alright. He could only give a lame smile. Little did he know how much pale he was than usual.

Yao was born with arrhythmia problems. They weren't fatal but he had been on medication since his memory began. Sometimes when he was fatigued or distressed, the symptoms became more severe. He reached his hand to the bottom of his backpack for a small container. It was antiarrhythmic pills. He screwed open the lid with shivering hands and quickly swallowed several down. It didn't seem to help much either. He took some more; but he just kept feeling awful. Everything went wrong this morning!

The speaker from Belgium finished her talk and Yao saw people passing the microphone to those who had questions. And then it went all perfectly quiet.

Yao had no idea about many things, such as, what chaos he'd created in the auditorium after he passed out. He didn't hear the ambulance came, whistling furiously. He didn't saw Gilbert got outraged by the Swiss accent of the emergency people as he explained the situation in German. He didn't know Francis searched his pocket and fished out the antiarrhythmic. And most certainly, he didn't expect anybody to call Arthur about anything, when he regained consciousness in the hospital.

The nurse told him that he was overdosed on the antiarrhythmic medicine, which caused the heart block and the fainting as she rolled him to get a stomach pumping.

The procedure was as painful as hell. It took six torturous failures before the doctor finally forced the tube down to Yao's stomach. Once it was down there, the even more unbearable lavage began. He lay on his side and clung tightly to the bed sheet. Being lavaged with saline, Yao felt like he was literally throwing up everything in his chest and belly. His whole body was shaking in pain. He'd beg for it to stop if he could speak at all. His face was stained with tears and sweat. And for once, he didn't bother to wipe. He didn't care how lame he appeared in others' eyes.

At that moment, or maybe the whole time, all he could think of was the image of Arthur Kirkland.

He so craved to see Arthur at this very moment. Now as he lay there having his stomach pumped, he finally admit to himself what he really wanted most for his life. That was not dying quietly, but instead, being together with a certain emerald-eyed Brit. He needed to ask that Brit if he felt the same way. And if Arthur promised to hold his hands and never leave, maybe, Yao thought to himself, he could also hold onto the faith in love.

He was rolled back to the emergency department to rest after the pumping. An hour later, the nurse took him to the X-ray, making sure the tube was entirely removed. When he was finally released and walked out to the waiting area, the figure of no other but that Arthur Kirkland appeared in his vision, much to his surprise.

Yao had no time to think why the hell Arthur was here. Genuine worry was written everywhere on the Brit's face. And what was sparkling in those watery emerald eyes? Could that be what Yao was hoping for? Before Yao could say anything, Arthur rushed over and pulled him into a tight hug.

"You better rest now, but tomorrow I expect an explanation about the overdose." The Brit bellowed, "And for your record, you're on suicidal watch and I'm letting you do any of these stupid things no more!"

Yao snaked his arms around the still shivering body of the Brit, kissing the fine jawline gently. The many clock towers in Zurich sang altogether for the last time of the day. And Yao spoke slowly, "Arthur, tell me please, what am I to you exactly?"

_Birds are flying over Europe skies, tell me please why can't I? *_

_A/N: the heart block and fainting part was based on my own experience. And the stomach pumping was something I'd never want to recall. But still, I have no knowledge in this field. So if something scientifically wrong, please let me know!_

_* Quoted from the song "Europe skies". Very nice song. I'm listening to it when I wrote this chapter. And you know what, I'm missing Europe now!_

_As always, thank you for reading! Love forever!_


	6. Consistency

Yao raised his fork and poked the overcooked cherry tomato on the spaghetti, gazing from the window at the riverside. Did Einstein once walk down those crowded roads of Zurich? Did any of the huge clocks hung up in the towers inspire his genius theories of relativity? This was the first official date he went on in his life. Or was it?

Arthur said nothing explicit at the end of the day. The lawyer whose wits were hard to match simply couldn't handle such touchy-feely situations, could he? "You're the one I'm now watching closely" was Arthur's answer to Yao's question, which wasn't exactly romantic. But the bright blush, the small smile and the caring concern combined on the Briton's face were a dead giveaway.

They lay together again last night. Clearly both parties had been craving the reunion. Yao felt Arthur's "vital region" hardened and he was sure Arthur felt his as well. He wouldn't mind if Arthur took a move, although his body really wasn't in the right state for it after the pump. But the Brit cared enough to suppress his natural drive and only cycled a hand on the smaller man's back, kissing him good night. Yao needed no more to confirm how much they'd already fallen for each other.

They talked a lot this morning. Yao vented out those feelings that he'd never shared with anyone else. And that sort of led to Arthur now wearing this stern face on their first date.

"Arthur, you don't have to stay, aru. Your work is important." Yao said, a little frustrated. He had learnt that, when Arthur said he'd be watching, he literally meant it.

Arthur wiped his mouth with a napkin in perfect manners before he replied. "No, for sure I'm sticking around till Monday. I'll have to see to it that you don't lie about your blood test result. As for after that, either I stay with you until the end of your conference, or you come back with me right away. No way I can trust that perverted French or the stupid German with you."

"Don't make it like I'm a child. I can take care of myself." Yao protested.

"You reckon your credit history qualifies that?" Arthur the lawyer raised an eyebrow, "I've seen you attempted suicide twice already in merely three months. I won't be surprised if you now confess that you have tried a lot more times."

_Never to forget Arthur Kirkland had a fulltime job investigating every single detail that most people wouldn't ever notice,_ Yao made a mental note to himself.

"Yesterday was an accident, aru!"

"An accident that almost cost your life." Arthur rose from his seat and moved to the one next to Yao's. Leaning forward, he grabbed the smaller man's shoulder and kissed him on the forehead. "Yao, I'm serious. You have no idea; I almost had a heart attack when Francis told me… You know how it felt? Sitting there while you were in the emergency? I'll never want to have that experience again!"

Yao turned to his lover, hands cupping Arthur's face. "I'm sorry Arthur. I'm really sorry for making you worry and everything. This won't happen again, I promise?"

The Brit's face softened a little, but he still shook his head. "Not that I don't want to believe you. But you're in an unstable mental state. I know you weren't intending to kill yourself yesterday. But you ended up losing track of your medicine dosage. How can you prevent that from happening again when you don't even realize what you're doing? That's very dangerous. I can't risk any more. Especially when you're deciding to come out to your family, you'll get distressed far too easily in this situation." He kissed Yao's left cheek, emerald eyes meeting the sad amber ones. "I don't mean to blame you, love. I know you're insecure and scared and everything at this moment. And it makes total sense that you feel this way. And it feels worse if you're all alone. That's why I have to stay by your side. Believe me, things do work out. You'll be fine. _We_ will be fine."

This Saturday morning, Yao made the biggest decision in his life. He wanted to accept himself as who he was and embrace the future he saw in Arthur's loving eyes. Even more, he wished his parents could also recognize him as the person he was. He got an email earlier this morning from his younger brother Kaoru. His mother was quite angry, but otherwise OK. It couldn't count as good news, but wasn't too bad either. It seemed his younger brother overheard it when Yao was on Skype with their mother. Yao confessed and told Kaoru that he would have a conversation with his parents about his sexuality at some point. It wasn't easy to speak out at all, even though Yao had made up his mind. When he clicked the "Send" button, his heart almost stopped. But being honest about this for the first time in so many years actually felt good. It was like a heavy burden was lifted, although the price to pay could be deadly.

"Will they forgive me?" asked Yao, followed by a heavy sigh.

"First, there's nothing wrong that needs to be forgiven. Second, they may be shocked and confused at first. But eventually they will accept you, because they love you unconditionally. You yourself weren't even consent with it until this morning. But you have now made your way out. You just have to be patient with your parents as they have to go through the very same."

Yao patted the new Kitty plush Arthur got him in his arms and hugged it more tightly, as if getting courage from the stuffed cat. If they weren't having such a serious conversation, Arthur would certainly tease, "such level of cuteness shouldn't be allowed in this universe".

Resting his head on the plushie, Yao said thoughtfully, "It's not quite the same though. I saw it as a sin before, because it would definitely hurt my family. They'd feel appalled and even dishonored. That was why I couldn't accept it myself. But on the other hand, I always understand homosexuality is natural; natural in the sense that not only in human, but also in other species, a fraction of the population just happens to be gay. Although it seems to go against Evolution, being practically non-reproductive and such, it's not like there's any first principle forbidding it. At this relatively large scale, it's statistical, after all. It just so happens there is a certain percentage of observations that the theory fails for." he paused and looked up to his partner, "Is it funny that I'm like, trying so hard to justify that? I know it must sound stupid. But I kinda need to make it clear, to myself."

"Not at all." Arthur smiled encouragingly, "The more consent you are, the easier it will be for you to convince your parents."

"But they don't see it that way. To them, it's something extremely dirty and evil that can't even be spoken. Back home nobody would bring up sexuality in any conversation. It's just unthinkable."

"Well, then we'll have to figure out how to make them think, won't we? And when they do, they'll find the truth. That is, they can't love you any less because you're gay. Now we better get you fed. You're going to disappear if you don't put up some weight." Proclaimed Arthur lovingly, as he neatly wrapped a strand of spaghetti on Yao's fork.

The Chinese blushed furiously, but let Arthur feed him anyway. The tomato sauce was a bit too sour and Yao immediately regretted ordering it, as the sour flavor reminded him of the disgusting gastric lavage. He didn't want to show it though, since that would only make Arthur more worried. "The Swiss really don't know how to make pasta, do they? It's even worse than English food." Remarked Yao, frowning.

"What is that 'even' supposed to mean? English food is perfect!" declared the Brit.

"Why didn't they organize the conference in Paris or Rome!" muttered Yao.

"Hey, now I clearly see what bad influences that frog has on you! I'll have to see to the complete removal of his pathetic existence in your life." Arthur snorted and pulled Yao closer protectively, as the smaller man punched him on the arm softly.

"I didn't know you were such a mean bastard aru!" pouted Yao.

Arthur sneered. "Now you know, but it's too late."

The blood test result came out on Monday. Apart from the chronic arrhythmic problems, Yao seemed more or less healthy. Arthur's stern face finally changed. The doctor still recommended Yao getting more systematic check-ups for the heart block symptoms that recently showed up. Although the conference schedule had some amazing talks in the remaining days, Yao chose to go back to London with Arthur Tuesday afternoon. He wouldn't have Arthur get in trouble at work because of him. And he had to agree that with the whole coming-out plan in his mind, he couldn't manage to focus on work anyways.

Kaoru replied a day after. Yao's hands were trembling when he opened the email. To his great surprise and relief, Kaoru was totally cool with it. He even stated he'd love his big brother no matter what. It really wasn't like Kaoru to be so open about love, or rather, anything. Yao nearly burst into tears. This heartwarming creek watered the sprout of hope. Kaoru also said he'd keep it as a secret until Yao saw it a good time to tell their parents. And Yao really appreciated how much his little brother respected and supported him. Although his mother kind of figured out everything, the rest of the family was still clueless, as she wouldn't say a word. Yao could see how she couldn't even talk about such things due to her traditional mindset.

The trip back to London was short and smooth. The view from his window was somehow a new world in Yao's eyes, with Arthur unpacking his stuffs. The Brit insisted to keep an eye on him and living together seemed to be the only way possible. This one-bedroom flat wasn't too great for two people, but still better than the other option, since Arthur's was really too far away from Yao's university. Yao was still restless, thinking about what to say to his parents almost every second when he was awake. But he knew he better listen to Arthur's advice, calm down first. After all, it wouldn't be a one-shot thing. It could very well be a lifetime job to finally get his parents on his side. But from this moment onward, he wouldn't ever want to flea again.

* * *

_A/N: Hopefully Yao's change of attitude wasn't too fast. It did happen to me that after the super unpleasant pump I started to take an entirely new perspective, although in an opposite way. _

_Once again, I really appreciate all those who read this story! Can't thank you enough!_


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